Drowning Slowly – The End
The soft green walls and the elevator music were irritating Ben. He had been sitting in the waiting room chair for over a half hour, surrounded by very pregnant or very old women, and Becca was late. He looked at his phone again. I had been over a week since he had heard from Jennifer. More than two since he had seen her. Her last message wasn’t promising. Actually, to anyone else it was probably a death blow.
“I can’t do this anymore.” She said.
But somehow he felt like maybe she didn’t mean it. How could she? How could she deny this chemistry between them? This connection that he felt so vividly? He wrote her a rather lengthy response, one that he still thought was touching and witty and would bring her back into his arms, but he hadn’t heard back. He had thought of every reason why she might not have been able to log into her email, and clung to them like a life raft.
There was a commotion at the door and Becca waddled in, looking ready to pop, Reilly in tow. Becca’s face was red and she was sweating and Ben really wanted to be sarcastic and frustrated with her but it wouldn’t do him any good.
“Are you ready to see your brother?” He asked Reilly. Her face beaming with big sisterly pride she nodded vigorously. A final check of the baby before his due date and things were still looking clear. Maybe he would escape his sister’s fate like Ben had. He could only hope. He wished after that he had thought to hold Becca’s hand or something, she probably would have liked that.
After the appointment and packing Reilly back into Becca’s SUV and sending her on her way with a kiss he forced himself not to drive past Jen’s house on the way back to work. Not this time. The new job was difficult, and he couldn’t be late again.
In the parking lot he sat in his truck and breathed deeply. He thought maybe he could catch whiffs of Jennifer’s perfume. It seemed like she was just here, and it had been forever at the same time. Just that morning he had found a wavy brown hair floating, tethered to the passenger headrest.
Want to start at the beginning? Drowning Slowly – Part 1
Start a new story? Maggie